


May The Dread Wolf...

by Sia



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Post-Game(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 02:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3833590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sia/pseuds/Sia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's a mortal to do when a god falls in love with her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	May The Dread Wolf...

She had no idea, of course.  

The one who’d called himself Solas for a time watched the mortal woman who held his heart.  Quietly, without letting her know.  He knew she wouldn’t like it.  She had once called him a coward.  She would probably throw something at him for not telling her he was there.  Ionneira Lavellan never suffered fools.  And he felt one.  For the first time in a long time.  

The temptation was there, though.  She had drunk from the well, so many years ago.  He could feel her at the edge of his perception, bound as she was to Mythal.  He could free her.  But he couldn’t bring himself to do so, to remove all knowledge of her from himself.  How could he?  He walked alone, now.  Ionneira’s presence in his heart, in his mind had become a comfort.  He wasn’t proud of that, but after eons alone he’d learned to take what small comforts where he could.

When he removed Mythal from Flemeth to keep her from doing the same to him in punishment for his dealing with the monstrous magister,  his emptiness echoed throughout his being.  It was only that small part of him that could feel Lavellan, that could feel Io, that felt any relief within that aching, echoing emptiness.

A part of him longed to slip back into _Uthenara_.  To go back into the Fade and walk the silence, steep in the memories, until she’d passed from this world and from his awareness, from his temptation.  She had spent quite some time mourning him.  Almost weakening his resolve to stay away.  But he knew she was strong.  She would move on and love again.  It would hurt when she did, and he braced himself for it, but it’s not as if she were making him watch her live her life while he continued his mission.

And doubted.

Eventually, she did take another to her bed.  And the man who once called himself Solas couldn’t blame her.  The human she had chosen was an honorable man.  The one  who commanded the armies of the Inquisition was fair, perhaps because of the struggles with the darkness in his own heart.  

And Fen’harel could not complain with how she guided the former spirit, Cole.  The boy was neither mage nor entirely human, but was learning how to live among the mortals and help them as best he could.  And to help himself grow.  The Dalish woman seemed to have adopted the spirit boy as her son and guided him as she would her own.  

She had carved for herself a good life, a strong life, balanced on the knife edge of politics and conquest, an oddity among the world’s powers, advocating for The People and for the humans they must deal with.   The essence of Mythal wriggled through his spirit.  He should let Ionneira Lavellan be.  

But he couldn’t.   

Eyes the color of moonlight on dewed grass hunted him to his own rest.  She’d grown out her formerly chopped silver-black short hair, and his fingers twitched with the memory tangled softness.  Mythal shouted in his ear.

He knew she would sometimes still dream of him.  He would find a secluded place in Skyhold to sleep at night and follow her into the Fade, to find her dreaming of him, an all-too willing spirit mimicking his form.  She would wake first and guiltily dry the tears from her face before turning with a smile to her human husband.  

And then he knew, despite her love for another, she also still loved him. The spirit of Mythal pounded on his psyche.  

Perhaps it was the Well, or perhaps it was the still-active mark on her hand, but he began to realize she wasn’t aging normally.  She and the Commander had children.  Beautiful children.  Two daughters and a son.  She appointed a successor to her position and the two of them retired.  

And when the time came, she stood at the Commander’s graveside, her spine unbowed with age, her silver-green eyes still clear, her skin unwrinkled, her children and grandchildren scattered to the corners of Thedas as descendants do, she raised her eyes, those great moonlight on dewed grass colored eyes that chased him and ran him to ground.  ”I know who you are.  I’ve _always_ known.  I don’t know what happened to me, Solas.  But don’t you dare make me live an eternity alone.”  He watched her take a deep breath and close her eyes, raising her face to the overcast sky.  ” _Ma ghilana mir din’an, ma vhenan!_   May the Dread Wolf take me!”  

When he saw the flash of metal in her hand, he moved faster than he thought possible.  He managed to reach her before she could plunge the knife home.  " _Ir abelas, ma vhenan_ ,”  he whispered, catching her and wrapping one arm around her still-strong and unbowed shoulders, the anchor still glowing in her hand.  

She collapsed, sobbing, to her knees.  He felt his heart wrench at seeing her in pain, the essence of Mythal clenching at his own spirit.  ”I _wanted_ to grow old with him.  A mortal life.  What did you do to me?”

“Ma vhenan, I did nothing.  All those years ago, you contended with one who would be a god.  The things you did to stop him… _Halam’shivanas_.”  He stroked her hair, keeping her cuddled close.

"My duty?  He did _his_ , too."  Her tone was angry, bitter.  But she didn’t move away.  "Why wasn’t _he_ rewarded?  Instead he was tormented by decades of lyrium agony.  Arthritis.   _Pain._ ”

“ _Ma vhenan_ , I saw no pain as I watched the two of you.  I saw his happiness as he lived his life with you and his children and a cause in which he believed.”

She turned to look at him, her dark brows furrowed.  ”If I didn’t know what you were, I’d say that was creepy.”

He laughed, the first genuine laugh he’d felt in an age.  ”I knew you’d say that.  I gave you your privacy, I promise.”

She sat up, pulling away from him slightly as she dried her eyes.  ”So, you’re not going to let me join him.”

He had to smile at her stubbornness. “I don’t think you can.  I think you would just cause yourself a great deal of pain.”

"So, Mythal won’t let me go?  Let me talk to Flemeth.  Maybe I can convince her she doesn’t need a servant.  Not like she’s ever demanded anything of me in the last few decades."  She made as if to rise, looking to the sky.

He put his hand on her shoulder.  ”No, _ma vhenan_ , Flemeth hasn’t existed for quite sometime.  I’ve carried Mythal until a new vessel could be found.    _Ma melava halani_.”

She frowned again.  ”I did?  How?”  

"Flemeth’s fault was always the need to possess new daughters.  You will never need to.  You’ve already been… altered.  This… might hurt."  He kept his hand on her shoulder, tightening his grip.  He regretted not asking her permission, but he couldn’t take the chance of her saying no.  He carried too much right now.  The burden too heavy.  And truthfully, the chance to have both by his side again, even if she hated him, even if both hated him for it, was a risk he was willing to take.  

He was a gambler at heart, after all.

The power flowed out of him and hit her swiftly.  He felt her go rigid, her back arching as she fell backward, forcing him to fall with her or break the physical connection.  Her eyes were wide, and her mouth open in a soundless scream.  

She stayed that way, long after the icy fire of power had flooded out of him, leaving him exhausted.  He could only imagine how she felt.  He only pulled away when she turned her head to glare at him and rolled her shoulder to push his hand off.  Reluctantly, he took his hand away and sat back.  ” _Ir tel’him_ ,” she whispered as she pushed herself to a sitting position.

“ _Mala suledin nadas_ ,”  he wondered how much of Ionneira was left.  Or if he’d just killed her to save another.  Or if Mythal would now attack him.

"I am aware of that, Wolf."  She shied away from the hand he held out to her.  

"Io?"  He tried not to let too much of the fear into his voice.  After all, Mythal was still dangerous, shell of herself that she was.

"I am here.  I am… my own servant?"  She barked a laugh.  "How’s that for irony.  What in the Void did you do?”

"The only thing I could to save us both."

She looked up at him, the silver in her eyes more pronounced.  Flemeth always seemed more in control than Mythal, but he wondered if that was because Flemeth had been human.  She drew her knees up to her chest and gazed at the headstone.  ”Fine.  You saved me.  Now leave me alone.”  When he didn’t move, standing frozen in shock, she turned her head to glare at him.  ”I’ll find you.  I’m pretty sure it’ll be easy to do.”  She didn’t move, staring at him until he turned away and left.  His legs felt leaden without Io’s presence in the back of his mind.  Without Mythal beating against his psyche.  He felt empty in a way he hadn’t since he first woke.  

He honored her wishes.  He did not seek her out.  The call of _Uthenara_ was stronger.  The pull of oblivion just so he didn’t have to feel the void in his heart was greater than he’d ever felt before.  But he couldn’t give in.  No matter what Ionneira chose to do, there was still work to be done.  He daren’t even track down Cole for fear the boy was with her.  

He reminded himself he could be patient.  He was a hunter after all.  And part of hunting was waiting.

He was standing, watching the sun rise on a hillside in Haven, near where they’d met as the original spot was buried beneath a ton of rubble, when he first caught a scent on the air.  Lavender.  Jasmine.  A hint of subtle spice he could never really identify.  He turned.  She leaped down from the rocks above to stand next to him, oiled tan leathers gleaming in the sunlight, dragon staff glinting over her shoulder.  ”Solas.”

"You know that’s not my name."

"It’s probably best I call you that, though.  People tend not to run in fear from it."  He closed his eyes at the sound of her voice.

"I’ve missed you, _ma vhenan_.”  

She grinned.  ”I know.”   She adjusted her staff.  ”So, Cole’s going to be joining us.  And a golem that used to know the Hero of Ferelden.  You’ll like her.  She’s grouchy.”  She turned to lead him somewhere.  He suddenly didn’t care where.  She turned to spear him with her silver gaze.  ” _Tel garas solasan, ma vhenan_.  We are not what we used to be.  And The People need us, now.  Whatever your cause… it will wait.”

She had a point.

**Author's Note:**

> Elven phrases as they appear (my apologies for possibly mangling syntax):
> 
> Uthenera (ooth-en-ERR-ah): Waking sleep  
> Ma ghilana mir din’an, ma vhenan: Guide me into death, my heart!  
> Ir abelas, ma vhenan: I'm sorry, my heart  
> Halam’shivanas: The sweet sacrifice of duty  
> Ma melava halani: You helped me  
> Ir tel’him: I'm me again  
> Mala suledin nadas: Now you must endure  
> Tel garas solasan, ma vhenan: Come not to a prideful place, my heart


End file.
